By Cami Parrish Feeling trapped is like a nightmare. Waking up and still being trapped is pure horror.
Just imagine living underground. To be alone and not knowing what is going on above.
To afraid to not be alone. The innocence of not knowing is good?
Never knowing what light is. Does this mean you can’t want it?
Does it simply mean you don’t know if you want it? You know something is missing, but what.
This is a funny thing, love. You can feel trapped with the questioning of your own mind?
But the truth is love can’t be questioned.
Human
By Cami Parrish People try when there is hope. Hope only exists when people try. When no one tries and no Hope exists There is no rhythm of effort.
People are trapped in a world with no good All because all hope was lost.
Until one person who cares enough To notice there is a problem Stands up.
Someone with courage and effort, Who is human enough to have the passion to try. This person has the ability people have lost, Hope.
Hope then try. For anything to be good they must remain together. Work as one.
Tides By Cami Parrish My heart shattered into six pieces, which spread out in every direction. Where? And Who? Was pulling my heart apart. Was it lasting memories of family I will never see again? Or was it me unsure of which direction I was going? The everlasting tug that was building up inside me that finally just ripped me. Think.
I couldn’t stop and think about the past, I needed to live life to the fullest and follow whatever direction it may take me. I couldn’t just leave me behind though, I needed to be whole and strong, but there I stood with ears apart hearing different songs. swaying back and forth, which way was I going? Again I think.
Every time I start to feel like my heart is back together it gets pulled apart again. This cycle of hurt makes me think this will never end, that my heart will just keep going and going, in unknown directions. Starting to wonder if maybe apart is the way my heart is meant to be Maybe this is me.
Maybe its me who is doing the pulling. Everything is felt by me, I push everything away again. I pull everything apart. I continue to think of the one time something hurt. I keep bringing the memories back from different directions. The hurt keeps going.
Back and forth I am going. Me and I never quite know where we stand, With all of the constant motion in every direction Again I get pulled out and lose my grip. I think, no, I know that I will come back. I can no longer be pulled apart, I am to strong.
I am no longer apart. I am going to be ok because being pulled apart is my nature and my life. I think that this is what is meant to be, and for once I know me. I know that I will again be pulled out, but all is fine because now I know my direction.
It seems as though me and I will forever be apart. I know that we are going to be together again Because now I don’t need to think, I just know my direction.
Fly By Cami Parrish I AM …delicate I WONDER …how far is the next flower? I HEAR … flap, flap, flap I SEE … sunlight making the watered flower sparkle I WORRY … it might rain I WANT …to stay out and sway on a flower moving with the wind.
I PRETEND … I am hearing music I FEEL … the wind lift me up and down, blow me back and forth I TOUCH … one petal of a flower, for that is all I can reach I WORRY … the flowers will go away I CRY …when winter comes and I have to lave my favorite flowers I AM … a lost traveler
I UNDERSTAND … the seasons must come I SAY … the flowers will come back next year I DREAM … blooming flowers I HOPE … I’ll make it back to the flowers I AM …a single gentle butterfly
‘Be Music, Night’
By Kenneth Patchen
Be music, night,
That her sleep may go
Where angels have their pale tall choirs
Be a hand, sea,
That her dreams may watch Thy guidesman touching the green flesh of the world
Be a voice, sky,
That her beauties may be counted
And the stars will tilt their quiet faces
Into the mirror of her loveliness
Be a road, earth,
That her walking may take thee
Where the towns of heaven lift their breathing spires
O be a world and a throne, God,
That her living may find its weather
And the souls of ancient bells in a child's book
Shall lead her into Thy wondrous house
A poem I thought you might like:
A Day For Wandering by Clinton Scollard
I set apart a day for wandering;
I heard the woodlands ring,
The hidden white-throat sing,
and the harmonic West,
Beyond a far hill-crest,
Touch its Aeolian string.
Remote from all the brawl and bruit of men,
The iron tongue of Trade,
I followed the clear calling of a wren
Deep to the bosom of a sheltered glade,
Where interwoven branches spread a shade
Of soft cool beryl like the evening seas
Unruffled by the breeze.
And there---and there---
I watched the maiden-hair,
The pale blue iris-grass,
The water-spider in its pause and pass
Upon a pool that like a mirror was.
I took for confidant
The diligent ant
Threading the clover and sorrel aisles;
For me were all the smiles
Of the sequestered blossoms there abloom---
Chalice and crown and plume;
I drank the ripe rich attars blurred and blent,
And won---Content!
By Cami Parrish
Feeling trapped is like a nightmare.
Waking up and still being trapped is pure horror.
Just imagine living underground.
To be alone and not knowing what is going on above.
To afraid to not be alone.
The innocence of not knowing is good?
Never knowing what light is.
Does this mean you can’t want it?
Does it simply mean you don’t know if you want it?
You know something is missing, but what.
This is a funny thing, love.
You can feel trapped with the questioning of your own mind?
But the truth is love can’t be questioned.
Human
By Cami Parrish
People try when there is hope.
Hope only exists when people try.
When no one tries and no Hope exists
There is no rhythm of effort.
People are trapped in a world with no good
All because all hope was lost.
Until one person who cares enough
To notice there is a problem
Stands up.
Someone with courage and effort,
Who is human enough to have the passion to try.
This person has the ability people have lost,
Hope.
Hope then try.
For anything to be good they must remain together.
Work as one.
Tides
By Cami Parrish
My heart shattered into six pieces, which spread out in every direction.
Where? And Who? Was pulling my heart apart.
Was it lasting memories of family I will never see again?
Or was it me unsure of which direction I was going?
The everlasting tug that was building up inside me that finally just ripped me.
Think.
I couldn’t stop and think about the past,
I needed to live life to the fullest and follow whatever direction it may take me.
I couldn’t just leave me behind though,
I needed to be whole and strong, but there I stood with ears apart hearing different songs.
swaying back and forth, which way was I going?
Again I think.
Every time I start to feel like my heart is back together it gets pulled apart again.
This cycle of hurt makes me think this will never end,
that my heart will just keep going and going,
in unknown directions.
Starting to wonder if maybe apart is the way my heart is meant to be
Maybe this is me.
Maybe its me who is doing the pulling.
Everything is felt by me, I push everything away again.
I pull everything apart.
I continue to think of the one time something hurt.
I keep bringing the memories back from different directions.
The hurt keeps going.
Back and forth I am going.
Me and I never quite know where we stand,
With all of the constant motion in every direction
Again I get pulled out and lose my grip.
I think, no, I know that I will come back.
I can no longer be pulled apart, I am to strong.
I am no longer apart.
I am going to be ok because being pulled apart is my nature and my life.
I think that this is what is meant to be,
and for once I know me.
I know that I will again be pulled out,
but all is fine because now I know my direction.
It seems as though me and I will forever be apart.
I know that we are going to be together again
Because now I don’t need to think, I just know my direction.
Fly
By Cami Parrish
I AM …delicate
I WONDER …how far is the next flower?
I HEAR … flap, flap, flap
I SEE … sunlight making the watered flower sparkle
I WORRY … it might rain
I WANT …to stay out and sway on a flower moving with the wind.
I PRETEND … I am hearing music
I FEEL … the wind lift me up and down, blow me back and forth
I TOUCH … one petal of a flower, for that is all I can reach
I WORRY … the flowers will go away
I CRY …when winter comes and I have to lave my favorite flowers
I AM … a lost traveler
I UNDERSTAND … the seasons must come
I SAY … the flowers will come back next year
I DREAM … blooming flowers
I HOPE … I’ll make it back to the flowers
I AM …a single gentle butterfly
‘Be Music, Night’
By Kenneth PatchenBe music, night,
That her sleep may go
Where angels have their pale tall choirs
Be a hand, sea,
That her dreams may watch
Thy guidesman touching the green flesh of the world
Be a voice, sky,
That her beauties may be counted
And the stars will tilt their quiet faces
Into the mirror of her loveliness
Be a road, earth,
That her walking may take thee
Where the towns of heaven lift their breathing spires
O be a world and a throne, God,
That her living may find its weather
And the souls of ancient bells in a child's book
Shall lead her into Thy wondrous house
A poem I thought you might like:
A Day For Wandering by Clinton Scollard
I set apart a day for wandering;
I heard the woodlands ring,
The hidden white-throat sing,
and the harmonic West,
Beyond a far hill-crest,
Touch its Aeolian string.
Remote from all the brawl and bruit of men,
The iron tongue of Trade,
I followed the clear calling of a wren
Deep to the bosom of a sheltered glade,
Where interwoven branches spread a shade
Of soft cool beryl like the evening seas
Unruffled by the breeze.
And there---and there---
I watched the maiden-hair,
The pale blue iris-grass,
The water-spider in its pause and pass
Upon a pool that like a mirror was.
I took for confidant
The diligent ant
Threading the clover and sorrel aisles;
For me were all the smiles
Of the sequestered blossoms there abloom---
Chalice and crown and plume;
I drank the ripe rich attars blurred and blent,
And won---Content!